


how a resurrection really feels

by theoneinquisitor



Series: tumblr prompts [2]
Category: The 100, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, Gen, Reunion, S5 spec, Tumblr Prompt, bellarke reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 16:12:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11604171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoneinquisitor/pseuds/theoneinquisitor
Summary: It’s not the kind of reunion that could have been part of an epic story. It’s not the kind of reunion to bring tears to your eyes when you hear of it or make your heart beat in anticipation. It’s one with  urgent whispers and aggressive shoving. No explanation, no hello. No time to even fully comprehend that Clarke Griffin is not dead. It’s hardly even a reunion at all.tumblr prompt fill!





	how a resurrection really feels

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt: Can you do a prompt where Bellamy comes back to earth and Clark and him don't know how to act around each other anymore. Idk it could be like they had too much to say before he left or something like that. Thank you!! (You don't have to do it if you don't want to)
> 
> title comes from song of the same name by The Hold Steady.

 

**how a resurrection really feels**

 

It’s not the kind of reunion that could have been part of an epic story. It’s not the kind of reunion to bring tears to your eyes when you hear of it or make your heart beat in anticipation. It’s one with  urgent whispers and aggressive shoving. No explanation, no hello. No time to even fully comprehend that Clarke Griffin is not dead. It’s hardly even a reunion at all. 

“We have to go!” are the first words she says to them, no less than five minutes after the door to the drop ship opens. They hadn’t even fully taken off their space suits or really sucked in a breath of fresh air before she is before them, all blonde hair and fire. Six years later and everything is still the same but so very different.

“How?” Raven manages to choke out one word of the thousands they all wish to say One question out of so many that must go unasked because there is something, something truly terrifying, that makes everything else take a backseat. 

Clarke slows down for one second, one brief pause, to place a hand on her old friend’s shoulder, “I’ll explain everything, just trust me.”

_ Trust me. _ They really don’t know her anymore, do they? The person they knew died six years ago. Bellamy grieved for her. He missed her. He moved on just like she would have wanted and now she stands in front of him, different yet still unmistakably Clarke. It’s because of that they follow her without further questions. Echo takes his hand to give him a reassuring squeeze, like she knows his entire being is on the cusp of insanity in this moment. She’s not wrong. He gives her what he hopes is a smile (though probably more of a grimace) in thanks. Being in space for so long with her, well, they’ve come to understand one another. She can read him like a book. All of them can.

She makes no indication of stopping or turning to give an explanation. She drags them through the trees, so much greener and fuller than he could have imagined. He can’t be sure how long they were running, long enough for him to be exhausted by the time they reach a small cave behind a trickling waterfall. It's seems eerily familiar, like many parts of Earth.  He’s much too tired to admire the view. Being in space, well, there isn’t a lot of room to stay in shape. He did what he could, but running isn’t exactly viable on a small space station. 

The rest of his people seem to be on the same page, falling onto flat stones and the cave floor to catch their breath. Clarke stands in the doorway, glancing behind her like she’s expecting someone to pop out at any moment. No one speaks at first, they just look at each other wide eyed and try to catch their bearings.

“You want to tell me why the hell we’re running five minutes into being back?” Murphy is the first one to speak, his voice holding the typical sarcastic lilt come to be expected from him. Though, Bellamy can admit, this time it’s fairly warranted. 

Clarke sighs and turns to face them. The cave is dark, her face is unreadable. She seems to look them over for a moment, like she’s just now realizing it’s them and she isn’t sure what to do next.

“You’re late,” it’s not much of a response and frankly, he finds it more confusing than anything. Yes, they are definitely late, but what does that have to do with anything (besides what seems to be a strange resentment towards them)?

“You try building a drop ship from spare parts,” Raven bites back, crossing her arms at the accusation.

Clarke’s features soften briefly, “You’re right. I’m sorry. Just…”

“For what it’s worth,” Raven stands up, her leg wobbling underneath her from the strain, “I would have worked a little harder had I known you were down here.”

This seems to break the tension that had built, though Bellamy still feels tense all over. A little sick.  _ She’s alive,  _ is the only thing he can process,  _ she’s alive and she’s been alone for six years.  _ He’s not sure if he feels better or worse about it. It was almost easier, believing her to be dead. Now everything he had been feeling so long ago feels fresh again, the guilt, the grief. He left her behind. What if they would have waited? Six years of lost time. 

Clarke lets out a laugh that almost sounds like a sigh of relief and wraps Raven in her arms. They seem to pour all their emotions (shock, relief, joy)  into the embrace and he thinks he hears a sniffle come from Raven. When she pulls away, though, she’s all composure. Clarke looks around the cave and smiles and once again, he feels like he can’t breath. 

“Bellamy?” Echo touches his shoulder, concern etched into her usually hard features. 

He realizes he’s beginning to breathe erratically, like he’s almost suffocating. He feels like he’s trapped in one of his nightmares on the Ark. Where she is just within reach but he leaves her behind every time. He watches her dies. He watches Praimfaya rip her apart.

“Bellamy!” Echo calls again and he pulls himself to reality. He locks eyes with Clarke, who is looking at him like she doesn’t know who he is anymore.  _ She doesn’t.  _

“I need a minute.” He stands up and brushes past her without a word. It all seems cold and harsh, but he doesn’t have the first idea of what to say to her. So much is left unsaid between them, years of what if’s and questioning how he could have done things differently. Now, as she stands only feet away, he’s lost. Everything is different now. He isn’t the same person that went to space and there’s no way she’s the same person he left behind. 

“Amazing isn’t it?” God, her voice is still the same, “That the Earth could do so much healing in such a short amount of time.”

Her presence still consumes him, that much hasn’t changed. She stops next to him, keeping herself a safe distance away just in case he decides to break again. He feels like he might, but only under the weight of so many unspoken words. Unspoken feelings. 

She doesn’t wait for him to speak, just fills the silence with answers, “The nightblood worked. I made it back to the lab just in time.”

He takes a deep breath and faces her, seeing her (truly, in the light of the day and up close) for the first time. She’s different, yet the same. Her hair still turns gold in the glint of the sun, but it’s chopped off at her chin with a dark red streak peaking out at the bottom. She’s smaller but fuller somehow. Stronger. A long scar paints the side of her cheek, stretching from her brow to her jawline. He nearly has to physically restrain himself from touching it. She looks older, more worn, but still happy. Happy to see them. Happy to see him.

“Clarke…” he says her name for the first time since that last moment on the ground, the one where she asks him to use his head and his heart because she  _ knew  _ she wasn’t going to make it. He doesn’t mean to sound so broken when it comes out, but it does and her eyes soften. She looks like she might graze her hand upon his own cheek but thinks better of it. Instead she gives him one of her half-smiles.

“It’s okay, Bellamy,” his name is an answered prayer on her lips, the way she puts all her forgiveness in one word, “We’ll talk. Later.”

Just like that, she’s all business again. She gestures for him to follow her back inside and he does, though the weight of the apology on his lips makes him move a little slower. He takes a seat next to Echo and she gives him a questioning look. He nods as if to say he’s fine and she seems to accept it as an answer, for now. She sits down in front of everyone and closes her eyes, like she’s mentally preparing her for a long speech (she is). 

“This isn’t how I imagined seeing you all again,” she admits with a sad smile, “But we never get a break, do we?” 

“What happened to you, Clarke?” Monty is the one to ask and everyone turns their eyes on her. She doesn’t seem fazed by the question, only like she’s trying to figure out the best way to say it.

“The nightblood solution worked,” she begins and from there she gives them, cliff notes as she calls it, of her last six years. Busying herself with radios trying to get in touch with them and the bunker. Rationing her food. Trying not to go crazy. She tells them about another nightblood, Madi, who saved her life when she hadn’t even realized she needed saving. She speaks fondly of the girl, but he notices the ache behind her eyes. An ache and an anger that’s all too familiar. 

“Monty, you remember learning about the lost mining colony?” he nods in response, “They weren’t lost.” 

The mining colony on Mars. He remembers flipping through articles in the archives on the Ark during his brief time as a guard. He had never paid much attention to it. Apparently, he should have.

“I guess the Ark wasn’t the first to come up with sending prisoners to the ground.” 

That’s who they’re running from. Miners and prisoners, only these prisoners aren’t kids like they were. They are slaves. 

“From what I’ve learned, there's some weird sort of hierarchy based on genetics up there. Those who don’t have perfect genes become prisoners. Those prisoners did all the mining. I guess they ran into the same problem we did, but they didn’t just send their prisoners down. They sent everyone.”

Over 1,000 people by her guess. The first ship that came down was scouting, checking the Earth’s habitability. The others followed quickly. She and Madi had tried to run, but they hadn’t been prepared for the fire power of the colony. The force. They got Madi first, knocking her to the ground and stunning her without a second thought. She couldn’t run after that. 

“She’s all I have down here,” she seems to notice her mistake and corrects herself, “I had to go with her.” 

“Is that how you got the scar?” he winces at Emori’s question. He wondered that himself but knowing that someone deliberately hurt her, it's not something he feels mentally ready to hear.  _ It's not about you,  _ he reminds himself. Every struggle Clarke faced wasn't meant to add to his guilt. It just so happens that it does.  _ I left her behind,  _ it's all fresh again. 

“I tried to escape. They didn't like that,” her voice holds no emotion. Just the facts.

She doesn't say much more, just that they have to be careful until she can come up with a plan. She told them about the bunker, in hopes they can dig them out. This will give them the manpower to overcome the colony. Another war. 

Everyone seems to come to this realization at the same time. The air feels heavy. Six years in space had granted them peace, albeit a restless one. Now they're thrust back into the chaos, no opportunity to just enjoy the new earth. Enjoy the fact that they're alive. That Clarke is alive. 

“We’re not far from the lab,” she stands up, dusting the dirt from her pants, “That's where we were staying before…”

They take the hint and pull themselves from the ground. She walks outside and glances around, deciding the coast is clear for them. 

“It's safe there. Food. Shelter. The miners are still a long way out. I'll make sure they don't find you.”

“What do you mean?” he snaps, and it sounds harsher than he meant but it sounds like she's planning on going back.

“I have to go back,” she confirms and he feels like he's just been slammed in the stomach. 

JUST like that, he feels a switch, “Clarke, it's too dangerous. We're here now, we can help-”

“Madi is there.” 

“We just got you back,” it's a desperate thing to say but he feels pretty desperate in this moment. He's clinging on to someone he doesn't even know anymore.

“I know,” she tries to look him in the eye but he looks away, unable to really face the reality in this moment, “But I can't leave her.”

He wants to say more. He wants to sit with her for hours and apologize for everything she faced because of him, because he didn't wait. He wants her to tell him about Madi and the bunker. He wants to tell her about space. He wants to tell her  _ everything. _

But he doesn't. He stays silent. He doesn't know this Clarke anymore, it's not the same person he loved six years ago. Just as she doesn't know him. He's changed, mostly for the better. Using his head more and trying to be the leader she always knew he could be. Little does she know, even when he thought her in her grave, she taught him so much. 

“You good?” it's Raven this time who falls into step with him as they follow her to the lab. 

“I'm fine,” he tells her, putting his mask back in place. It's falls in effortlessly and she nods at him without question. She may not believe him but she trusts him. 

“Not exactly the welcome home we expected, huh?” 

They had planned to go straight to the bunker and work it out from there. No thought of sadistic mining colonies or alive Clarke’s. It's funny how things always have a catch with them. 

He doesn't pay much more attention after that. He comes back to reality as they approach the lab, the building looking much worse for wear. Brick has chipped away, mold grows on the sides. It looks dingy and uninhabited but when they walk inside it's the opposite. Drawings line the walls, landscapes, abstracts, and portraits of them. In any other circumstance it would have been a little creepy but something tells him they were her way of remembering them. The same reason he drank on multiple occasions. 

“Everything works for the most part, though it usually depends on the sun,” she explains, “You’'ll be safe here.”

“What are you going to do?” he decides not to stick around for Monty’s question. He wanders about the lab, putting together the pieces of her last six years through drawings and books. 

He's supposed to be okay. He's supposed to be stronger than this and yet she shows up and suddenly he doesn't know what to do. Everyone else seemed to adjust fairly quickly. Why couldn't he?  _ You know why,  _ a voice reminds him. Deep down, he does. But how does he resolve old feelings with the new him? 

He's found his way to the radio room, the place he last spoke to his sister. Tools are scattered around it, wires every which way. He wonders if it works. His baby sister is still buried underground but she has to be alive. Right now, he wishes he could just talk to her. Despite everything she always understood him best. 

“Did you all have a radio up there?” her voice startled him from his thoughts. She shuts the glass door gently behind her and pauses. He glances over his shoulder and shakes his head.

“Raven tried,” he tells her, “But eventually we needed the parts for the ship and we had to prioritize.”

She hums in response and seems to think about her next words carefully, watching him with an uneasy eye, “I radioed you. Everyday.” 

He can't help the way his mouth parts slightly in surprise and she smiles at that.

“Just you. To see if you were okay, if you all made it. Eventually I just assumed you did. It was better than the other option.

“Radioing you, especially you, it's the reason I made it so long,” her eyes search his own, begging him for some sort of understanding. His heart is lodged in his throat.

“It's important for you to know,” she places a hand in his arm and squeezes lightly, “You did what you had to do.”

_ You did what you had to do.  _ The words echo in his mind, so familiar. Every decision they've ever made they've justified with that, a mutual understanding between them that they never wanted to make the hard choice but they had to. As leaders. 

“Do you want forgiveness?” She asks when he says nothing in return and his eyes find hers again, almost teasing, “I'll give that to you.”

After everything, he still doesn't know what to say. So he just pulls her into his chest and buries his nose into her neck. She wraps her arms around his waist and burrows into his chest like she can't possibly get close enough.  _ I missed you. I'm here. I'm real. Trust me.  _ He outs all of those unspoken words into their embrace, in the way his holds tightly, the way his hand tangles into her hair.  There is still so much to learn about each other. There is still another war to fight, but the feelings are still the same. They can do whatever the hell they want. Together. 


End file.
